Death.

It was a familiar yet distant word, one that caused Gu Yangcheon’s brows to furrow.

“What do you mean by that…?”

The statement was too abrupt. Was he really saying that I was going to die soon?

I stared at the Divine Doctor with wide eyes, seeking an explanation. He continued in his usual calm tone.

“Every person has their limits—a vessel, if you will. You’re aware of this, aren’t you?”

“…Yes.”

Every human being possesses their own vessel.

This vessel could be described as a container for energy or the source of one’s existence. It’s something every human has.

So why was the Divine Doctor bringing up the concept of this vessel now? I waited for him to continue, my expression growing darker.

“Your vessel is nearing its limit.”

His words sent a cold shiver through me.

“…What do you mean by that?”

“Being able to use different energies simultaneously and the capacity of your vessel are two separate issues.”

Even if the risk of energy clashing had been resolved, the issue of the vessel overflowing or breaking was a completely different matter.

What puzzled me was…

“I don’t recall you mentioning this before.”

I had been examined by the Divine Doctor multiple times, yet he had never brought up anything like this.

Hearing my confusion, the Divine Doctor let out an exasperated sigh.

“That’s because I never expected you to take in even more energy. Do you think it’s normal for someone to keep pushing their vessel to its breaking point?”

“…”

“Your vessel isn’t small compared to others, but it’s filled to the brim, nearly overflowing. Do you not understand what that means?”

If the vessel overflowed, the excess energy would burst out uncontrollably, wreaking havoc inside my body. Even if it didn’t overflow, the vessel itself could shatter at any moment, causing catastrophic damage.

“Is there no way to prevent this?”

“As I’ve said before, the quickest and safest method is to destroy your dantian.”

The most straightforward way was to shatter my dantian and seal off the energy entirely.

“…That’s not an option.”

That would be as good as death.

I had too much ahead of me, too many responsibilities. For me, losing my ability to practice martial arts was unthinkable.

“Is there no other way?”

The Divine Doctor’s face grew stern as he responded, clearly frustrated by my insistence.

“To you martial artists, your strength is more important than your life, isn’t it?”

“…I’m sorry.”

The Divine Doctor couldn’t understand.

It wasn’t that I was unwilling to give up martial arts for my life. In fact, I had been prepared to destroy my dantian and live as an ordinary person, if that was truly necessary.

But…

‘Who will protect them if I give up?’

This wasn’t just about martial arts for me. It was about protecting the people around me, the ones I cared about. If I gave up now, who would be there to save them?

That’s why abandoning growth wasn’t an option.

“Is there… any other way?”

I clung to the hope that the Divine Doctor had mentioned earlier, that there was still another solution.

Sensing my desperation, the Divine Doctor sighed deeply before replying.

“There is no cure, but I can extend the time you have.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can create a medicine that will reduce the risks. It won’t cure you, but it will delay the inevitable.”

“…”

I fell into deep thought as I considered his words.

The Divine Doctor observed me in silence, sensing an unfamiliar feeling as he spoke to me. After a while, I touched my lips and asked cautiously.

“…This medicine, is it something only you can create?”

“Yes. I’m the only one in all of Zhongyuan who can make it.”

That made sense.

I had never heard of such a medicine before, one that could hold together a vessel on the verge of breaking. This could be considered fortunate news, but there was something even more important to consider.

“Would you be willing to give it to me?”

Would the Divine Doctor even agree to give me such a rare and valuable medicine?

“No. I have no intention of giving it to you.”

His refusal was firm.

“It will only extend your time, and you’re refusing to take safer, more reasonable options. I won’t do anything for someone like that.”

“…”

His voice was filled with frustration. I could only stare at him in silence, feeling the weight of his rejection.

The Divine Doctor seemed to sense something strange in my gaze.

“Doctor.”

In the heavy atmosphere, I asked.

“If I were to take that medicine, how much time would I have left?”

The fact that I was still asking about prolonging my life even after his refusal made the Divine Doctor feel a rising anger.

“Even if the medicine works perfectly, you won’t live past the age of forty. And if your body doesn’t respond well, you might barely make it ten years.”

I took a moment to digest his words, silently calculating. The Divine Doctor added more to his warning.

“If you’re thinking you can delay death while waiting for a miracle cure, forget it. This medicine—”

“…Ten years is enough.”

The Divine Doctor fell silent.

His dry voice and matter-of-fact tone echoed in the air.

As the sun began to set and the grand banquet celebrating the Poison King’s return was in full swing, the Divine Doctor sat on the porch of his quarters, pouring himself a drink.

“So…”

He reflected on his conversation with Gu Yangcheon, wondering why he had felt such a strange sense of unease while speaking with him.

It took a while, but he finally realized.

Or maybe, deep down, he had known from the beginning.

‘That child hasn’t changed at all.’

It wasn’t that his sharpness had dulled or that the tension had increased. He was simply hiding it.

The Divine Doctor recalled the first time he had met Gu Yangcheon.

Back then, the boy’s eyes had been devoid of life, despite his fierce personality.

It was the same look he had seen in countless martial artists who had chosen to end their own lives after the events of Magyeong.

Gu Yangcheon had carried that same look.

The Divine Doctor took another sip of his drink, the memory lingering in his mind.

‘You…’

You have no attachment to life.

That’s what the Divine Doctor had realized about Gu Yangcheon.

He should have seen it sooner.

The way Gu Yangcheon had pondered his own death without a hint of fear.

There was no dread, no terror in his expression—only the complexity of someone arranging his final affairs.

The instability of his vessel should have caused him psychological distress. He should have been suffering from bouts of intense pain or headaches.

But from what the Divine Doctor had seen, Gu Yangcheon seemed perfectly at peace, even in the midst of his predicament.

‘It’s not peace. It’s resignation.’

There was no more fear of pain.

No more fear of death.

The child had long since worn away those emotions.

When the Divine Doctor had met Gu Yangcheon after being summoned by the Poison King, he had immediately realized.

A martial artist might have missed the signs, but a physician’s eyes saw things differently.

Gu Yangcheon was in a state where death could come at any moment, and it wouldn’t be surprising.

The reason he had asked for the boy’s wrist as soon as they met was because of this.

His body was a mess.

Gu Yangcheon’s energy was barely being held together, but it was an unstable equilibrium.

Eventually, the forces within him would clash, and the damage would be irreversible.

Did Gu Yangcheon not realize this?

The Divine Doctor couldn’t help but wonder.

“…”

And yet, the boy’s reaction to having his life extended by a mere decade had been far too calm, far too accepting.

That wasn’t the reaction of someone relieved to live longer.

‘What is it…?’

What had broken this boy so thoroughly?

He was still so young, barely approaching adulthood, and yet he carried a weight far too heavy for someone his age.

‘What are you planning to do?’

The Divine Doctor thought back to the final moments of their conversation.

Gu Yangcheon had left, seemingly forgetting that the Divine Doctor had refused to give him the medicine. He had even said he would visit again.

As he watched the boy leave, the Divine Doctor felt a heavy stone settle in his chest.

It was always like this when he encountered people who had no attachment to their own lives.

“Eugh, damn it.”

Still, the Divine Doctor had no intention of going back on his word.

The medicine wasn’t something that could be made easily, and the ingredients weren’t readily available.

Besides, the only supply he had left was reserved for Wi Seol-ah.

Even if he had the materials, he wouldn’t give them to Gu Yangcheon. Once someone started taking the medicine, they couldn’t stop.

If they tried to abandon martial arts after taking it, they would lose the ability to survive.

The Divine Doctor had no intention of giving such a dangerous medicine to anyone.

As he sat there, pouring himself another drink, the door to his quarters slid open.

He let out a dismissive snort.

“Hmph, I thought you weren’t coming for a while. What brings you here so soon?”

The voice that responded was deep and smooth, though there was an underlying weight to it, as if it carried the passage of time.

“Finding you was more difficult than expected. You hide yourself well.”

The old man, though wrinkled with age, had broad, upright shoulders and a straight posture that revealed his martial prowess.

“If the boy doesn’t want to follow you, maybe you should stop forcing the issue.”

Chuckling softly, the man replied.

“He’s no longer a boy, though.”

“What does age matter?”

“If you care so much for him, why don’t you go yourself? After all, I’m not his only family.”

“And risk you lot trying something? I’ll pass.”

The Divine Doctor’s sharp words didn’t seem to faze the man, who merely approached the porch.

With a simple wave of his hand, a bottle of wine floated through the air and into his grasp.

It was a casual display of his martial prowess, but the Divine Doctor didn’t react.

“It’s not like you to drink alone like this. Did something happen?”

“Don’t concern yourself. I was simply in the mood for a drink today.”

“I see.”

The old man didn’t press the issue any further and sat down beside the Divine Doctor, his martial robe fluttering behind him.

Emblazoned on the back of his robe was a single character: Namgung.

“Ah, so you met the boy as well.”

The Divine Doctor’s shoulder twitched at the mention.

“Little Yama, was it? The one they call that.”

“If you want to see him, go ahead. His family’s girl is with him as well.”

The old man grinned at the Divine Doctor’s response and sat beside him.

“I’ll save that for later. I’ll see him soon enough anyway. Why rush the pleasure?”

“You’re as disagreeable as ever.”

“It’s a bit rich hearing that from you.”

With a chuckle, the old man swirled the bottle in his hand.

Though the wine was cheap, it wasn’t a bad drink to share under the light of the full moon.

As the night deepened, a lone figure sat under the moonlit sky.

The living legend of the Namgung family and one of the unshakable powers of the righteous martial world.

The Conqueror of the South.

Namgung Jeolcheon, known as the Heavenly Lord, took a sip of his wine, gazing at the moon.